Prison Yard Reunion
by Bree Z Claire
Summary: Dalton Correctional Facility: high-security and virtually inescapable. Those who enter its iron gates rarely get out alive, if at all. When Wes gets himself thrown in the slammer, it's up to his gang to get him out. But what's the best way to break out of a maximum security prison? From the inside out of course! Reform!Warblers/ One-shot/ Established Wevid and Klaine.


_Hello Hello!  
_

_A little drabble today based on Reform!Warblers.  
_

_Enjoy  
_

_Bree Z Claire  
_

**_I own nothing. Glee and its characters belong to Ryan Murphy and their other respected owners._**

* * *

The bus rolled up to the gates of Westerville's iron bar hotel. David took in the sight of the high fences; half brick and topped with barbed wire. The guard towers surrounding the entire perimeter of the prison were stocked full with what was supposed to be intimidating men who, upon lifting their lips to smile, would probably end up breaking their already worse-for-wear faces.

David rolled his eyes.

Everything looked so cheap and frugal from the rusty old door hinges to the tacky uniforms the guards wore. He knew then and there that he could probably make the break within a couple weeks once he'd gained his footing in this place. Even less than a week if he had some help, and _that_ he most certainly would have. As he was led inside with the other new arrivals he could feel the weighted eyes as the inmates took in the new shipment of fresh meat.

They continued sizing them up and taking bets on who would break first and David could already feel the rattle in the chains linking the line of the arrivals. David never flinched. His gaze fluttered over the pack pressed up against the metal fence until he locked contact with a familiar shade of brown eyes. He looked away almost immediately, walking into the building.

"Name?" The security guard asked in a rough voice.

"David Thompson."

He was quickly checked-in, strip searched, hosed down, and given two sets of clothes to change into before he and the others were taken outside into the prison yard. He didn't stick around to make friends with the newbies even though he could hear them making silent agreements with each other along the lines of _let's stick together because we're all new._

David propped up on the empty bleachers in the prison yard and leaned his head back, closing his eyes against the bright sun. It had been a long bus ride from town and he had never gotten use to sleeping with the loud roar of an engine or the inconsistencies of bumpy roads. Just as he was about to relax, he felt a presence beside him. Three presences actually – two on either side of him and one in front— blocking the sun from his line of sight if the sudden shadow was anything to go by. He looked up drearily with half-lidded eyes and smiled when his vision focused on a tuff of dark brown, curly hair and large puppyish brown eyes.

"Blaine." He nodded.

"David." The boy nodded back.

It was almost laughable how Blaine Anderson wounded up in a place like this. But then again, David thought, if anyone had threatened someone _he _loved more than life itself, David would probably risk a life sentence as well. Luckily for Blaine –and for David's living room— he'd be back in the arms of his fiancé in no time (and to then ten gallon container of hair gel he loved almost as much as his fiancé, but Kurt didn't need to know that).

"He says hi, by the way." Blaine's eyes softened immediately at the indirect mentioning of Kurt's name.

"Miss me, does he?"

"Almost threatened to kill me if I-" David stopped, eyes flickering from side to side at the pale blond and a cocky looking brunet sitting on either side of him. _If I didn't bring you home to him soon_, David was going to say.

"Oh don't stop on our account," the blond smiled. It was a boyish smile, a smile that told David that he hadn't been here for long. Maybe just a month or so; probably came in with Blaine.

Blaine frowned disapprovingly. "You'll have to excuse these two. They like to gossip." He gestured to the blond and then to the brunet, introducing them as Jeff and Nick respectively. The three exchanged 'hellos' and 'pleasure to meet you but not really' before David turned back to Blaine. They exchanged one of their silent conversations. It was the kind that took years of a close knitted friendship to develop:

_Is he here?_

_You know he is._

_Where is he then? _

Blaine rolled his eyes and frowned even more. _Where do you _think_ he is?_ Despite this, David could feel the surge of giddy amusement coming from the boy. He very rarely saw Blaine like this, but when he did, he knew he was in for a show.

"So you're new here," Jeff said. It was more of a statement than a question. The brunet – Nick – continued for his friend and the two went back and forth as they talked. It was like listening to one man, but who had two different voices.

"Blaine told us you two knew each other from before."

"That's cool, so do a lot of us. 'It's a small world after all' and all that jazz."

"But listen…" Nick leaned in close. "If you're going to survive in a place like this, you're going to have to make the right friends-"

"Like you two? How long have you been here exactly?" David raised a brow at the boys talking as if they were veterans and knew their way around the back walls and searchlights. They ignored him and carried on.

"The right connections-"

"-and the right moves."

The two boys paused their little speech when a group of brawny men in the distance began making trouble for some unfortunate souls in the corner of the prison yard. The guards seemed to hang back, looking on with looks crossed between amusement and hesitant fear of whether or not they should get in the middle of a riot. But just as things were beginning to take a violent turn, something managed to get the brawny men to turn around.

A figure stood at the other side of the yard and David was surprised he was just noticing this presence. The man wasn't exactly built like a tank, like a good lot of them were, but he wasn't scrawny either. He had broad, heavy shoulders that were set down and back as he crossed his muscular arms across his chest. He had evenly toned skin the shade of a fresh caramel latte and David had to resist the urge to lick his lips, feeling suddenly parched. He ran his gaze over the figure's short spiked hair and eyes that gave away his Asian decent.

The man gave a hard glare at the group of men, which led the leader of said group on a 90-degree angle away from the scared little bunch in the corner as well as Mr. Scary himself. The scared little bunch in the corner, looking pale and afraid, sagged in relief. Their relief, however, was short lived when they saw who had supposedly saved them from a beating. Needless to say, they scattered when they became on the receiving end of the Mr. Scary Caramel Lattle's death glare. Now that the scene before him had settled down, David took a closer look at the cross-looking man surveying the field with a look that challenged anyone to step out of line.

Obviously there were no takers.

David vaguely wondered if the reason the prison guards didn't start pointing guns was because of Mr. Scary, and not because they were too lazy to move from the shade of their towers into the hot beams of mid-afternoon. From the corner of his eye, David caught view of another man walking up to Mr. Scary Asian Caramel Latte and the two bowed their heads in discussion. He was slightly shorter than the Asian, and had dark brown hair and a serious expression on his face. David wondered what the two men were talking about. A nudge from Nick snapped him out of his reverie.

"Plus," he added as if he'd never paused. "You're going to want to keep out of trouble."

"Which means keeping away from certain people."

"Certain people like him." Nick nodded his head towards the Asian and his serious friend. He could feel a shiver from Jeff's body and David couldn't help wonder if the two had encountered the wrath of Mr. Scary Asian Carmel Latte first hand. David guessed the man would've look frightening to him too, with his orange jumped opened and hanging from his waist, white T-shirt dyed with dirt and the ends spattered with blood. His arms alone looked capable of bending back the guard's rifles as if they were red vines. His calm, calculating eyes looked more than able to spot a thrown knife, or shooting bullet, and catching it mid-flight only to hurl it right back where it came from.

_That's why, _David thought, _that's why everyone looked so tense. No one wanted their heads blown off by their own rifle. _He smirked.

"Have _you_ been keeping out of the way?" David raised both brows, directing the question more at Blaine than the other two. Blaine just shrugged – _always cool, calm, and dapper aren't we Blaine_?

"Didn't feel like getting too involved," _Just yet_, the words hung in the air. Blaine spoke in a nonchalant tone, but David couldn't miss the little twinkle in his eyes and the slight quirk of his lips. David bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking as well.

Nick and Jeff remained oblivious to this exchange and instead, were busy talking animatedly about something that apparently required rather large hand gestures and ignored David's question all together. David gave them a look that sobered them instantly.

"Nobody messes with those two." Nick frowned. _No, wait…was he pouting?_

"Not unless you have an 'in.' If you manage to be part of the 'in-crowd' that guarantees you the best treatment in this dump." _Okay yup. That's definitely a pout._ David suppressed a chuckle. But he had to admit, being here for only a few weeks, the boys had faired quite well if David did say so himself. He could see no visible marks on their bodies indicating fights, and from the slight air of carelessness, David could tell nothing serious had happened to them. Yet.

Blaine, or more so Blaine's connection, was probably keeping the two of them safe without their knowledge. But despite this, Jeff and Nick seemed unsatisfied, probably still liking the idea of being apart of the prison 'in-crowd' more than being prison nobody's and David didn't blame them. Protection was a valuable thing in rough situations and having your own group, especially being part of the top group, meant easy sailings and instant safety without the need to look over your shoulder with every step you took.

"Even the guards are afraid of him." Blaine let his smile slip and David couldn't hold his laughter anymore so settled for an amused bark. So he was right about that part.

"Seems like the guy has a reputation, how long has he been here?"

Jeff shrugged. "Apparently not for long, maybe only a few months or so?" He glanced at Blaine who confirmed this with a nod – not that he had to; they both knew how long it's been.

"Well I guess I better go introduce myself then," David said as he stood up and walked down the bleachers. Jeff and Nick exchanged alarmed looks before tumbling down to catch up with him while Blaine calmly kept stride along David. The two friends shared a sideways glance.

Jeff and Nick prattled on with warnings and scary stories about people who'd tried and failed to challenge the figure still deep in conversation. David, blatantly ignoring their 'warnings,' plowed forward until he walked straight in Mr. Scary Asian Caramel Latte. He waited as everything and everyone around him came to a standstill. The talkative duo ceased their endless prattling, and the men scattered around the yard stopped dead in their tracks, ceasing whatever it was that they were doing. Even the guards turned to see what would happen next.

"Oops." David smiled a cheeky grin, looking up at the sky in fawned innocence. Mr. Caramel Latte turned slowly until his dark eyed landed on David. His too-serious friend seemed to be more furious than Mr. Caramel Latte, which David noticed with interest.

"The fuck's your problem?" The man spoke.

If David didn't know any better, he would've known then and there that he was in for a hell lot of trouble. If David didn't know any better, he'd know that he'd just crossed a major line which would put him, Nick, Jeff, and Blaine in the line of heavy fire. If David didn't know any better, he'd be backing up very slowly, fighting the urge to dive head first under a rock and stay there until the next millennium. If David didn't know any better, he would've never chosen to willingly challenge one Wesley James Montgomery. Because if he didn't know any better, if it had been anyone else giving him this cold, icy death glare he was now receiving, he'd probably be sputtering out every last apology in his repertoire until his face went blue and his tongue fell out.

But luckily David did know better. He knew a lot better actually, and the only thing keeping him from running away with his tail between his legs was the fact that he could just barley make out the almost invisible quirk to Wes' smile, the faintest hint of a twinkle in his eye telling David his world was not about the crumble around him in the form of a trip to the emergency room.

David was never one for backing down anyways.

The two stared at each other for a long time with no one daring to move a muscle. The air around the prison yard was so thick with tension you could slice it with a steak knife and serve if with a side of mash potatoes and gravy. To his right he could see both Nick and Jeff watching with wide, fearful eyes and to his left he could see Blaine watching the two closely with barely contained amusement. Mr. Too-serious balled his fists and flared his nostrils. For a moment, David pictured a baby bird puffing out his chest in an attempt to look intimidating and failing miserably.

"Sorry man, I guess I just couldn't see you there." David smiled like an idiot, completely unphased, raising his hands in a gesture that said, _what're ya gonna do?_

"You're really asking for it aren't you?" The Asian narrowed his eyes. "I can't tell if you're incredibly courageous or just plain stupid."

"I like to think of myself as the former. Caught a spider in the house once; it was _this_ big!" David held his hands a few inches apart.

"Are you mocking us?" Mr. Too-serious decided to make his voice known finally.

"Nah, just him," David said, pointing at Wes.

Mr. Too-serious began stepping forward, ready to launch himself at David. Wes held up a hand.

Wes and David continued their staring match for a few more long minutes before someone finally cracked.

That someone being Wes.

He reached out with a hand and David grabbed him by the forearm. The two came together, clapping each other on the back with laughter. Wes punched David lightly in the arm when they both pulled back and the tension in the yard finally settled. The freeze-frame seemed to break as everyone went back to their own business. Jeff and Nick exchange shocked, confused looks that were mirrored in the face of Mr. Too-serious. Blaine just smiled, knowing the veil had finally been lifted.

Wes led the lot of them to a nearby oak tree, away from prying eyes and nosy guards, settling back against the bark with a back and forth movement of his shoulders until the wood found a comfortable spot between his shoulder blades. Thad took the spot next to him and Blaine flanked the other side. David laid back against the yellowing grass, picking at a patch of clover. Jeff and Nick, feeling a little out of place, stood by the wall until Wes shot them look and made them sit.

"What took you so long?" Wes asked finally, all icy glares thawed in lieu of an even, light tone. "Stopped to smell the roses on your way?" The silent 'why the hell are you in here instead of out there' was crystal clear in his worried eyes.

"Dalton's got too much security on the outside." David answered without giving away too much. If it had been just him, Wes, and Blaine, he would've went into more detail but clearly they didn't have the luxury of privacy at the moment. He would've told them that there was too much risk attempting a breakout from beyond the walls. A breakout from the inside on the other hand…

Wes picked up on the hesitation right away and gestured towards the man who stood – according to David- a little too close to him than necessary.

"David, meet Thad Harwood. Thad, David Thompson. Thad helped me out during my first few days here. I've decided to bring him along." Thad turned his head at this last bit of information, confusion painted clear on his face.

"Wait, what?"

Wes ignored this and looked at Blaine. "And I suppose you've decided to bring those two?" he nodded towards Jeff and Nick who also looked stricken with panic and confusion. David just rolled his eyes, picking through the green. Maybe if he was lucky he'd find a four-leaf clover.

"Huh?"

"What are you talking about?"

Blaine gave another shrug. "Nick can pick locks and Jeff is handy with circuiting. They both like fire. I figured that would come in handy."

Wes gave the two a hard look before nodding in approval. The next while consisted of a bit more formal introductions and debriefing on their plans. Wes, leader of the Warblers had been sent to jail a few months back – details remained vague to keep from unwanted questions— and to hell if he was going to spend the rest of his life holed up in this place when his team needed him. So a plan was devised that included having Blaine getting himself locked up as well ("I've been meaning to take care of this shitbag that's been hanging around Kurt anyways. Sebastian-something-or-rather…"), gathering intel about the prison; the layout, the weak spots in the old concrete, the blind spots in the prison light towers, everything.

The Dalton Correctional Facility was one of the hardest lock and key slammers to break out of and any attempts of a break would be met by gunshot. Escape looked futile to those who weren't use to breaking out of high security buildings. Luckily, the three weren't only used to it, they were aces at it – it was second nature to them and it was just as fun, if not more, as playing on the jungle-gyms when there were youngsters. While Wes was explaining tactics, David couldn't help but glance at a silent Blaine and back at Wes, the three falling into their old ways of telepathic conversation.

_Still all ears and no talk I see, Blaine._

_Quiet as a church mouse. You wouldn't believe all the things I've heard in the last week._

David turned his gaze to Wes. _And couldn't you have made a plan which didn't involve Blaine's fiancé from throwing a fit in my house, Wes? _David raised his brow but grinned. _Then again, you never could keep your yap shut about anything…_

_Do you really think I'd risk leaving Kurt out of the loop after what happened last time? My ears are still ringing! _Wes rolled his eyes. _Besides,_ _I had connections to make and a reputation to build. Blaine's been my ears while Thad here has been a useful pair of extra eyes._

_Stuck to you like glue ain't he? The hell's up with that?_

_The boy's got a fine appreciation for rules and order. I like him._

_And me?_

Wes gave David a searing smirk, sending a wave of pleasure down his spine like a bolt of lightning. It was at this point the other three seemed to get impatient. Thad coughed, snapping Wes' and David's mind out of the gutter. "So…what's happening next?"

David, Wes, and Blaine shared matching smiles. David was the first to speak.

"Break out during a prison riot, or are we going to pull a Shawshank?" To which Wes grinned his all-knowing grin.

"Patience my love, all in good time."


End file.
